Welcome to the land of Looney Toon perfect fluffy clouds, red rocks and distant snowcapped mountains. The world stretches for miles layering the horizon with blues and purples. Grey green plants stretch out across the plains like a sea lapping against cliffs. Soft red sand trails, reminding us what a world without asphalt would feel like, smooth rocks to explore like ants, childlike as we scramble and whoop and jump from ledge to ledge.

One trail lead to an ancient Native American ruin, a granary store of stacked stones, a reminder of the souls who lived and worked this land long before the campgrounds and the 4WD tracks. The bluebirds that I had been stalking since Arizona for the perfect picture were so tame around the camp that we had to guard our bag of pistachios from the soon familiar chip chip of a beak. Chipmunks too nibbled nearby and preened, beady little eyes always searching for errant crumbs.

It was a relief to be able to set up the tent during the day and leave it filled with sleeping bags and sundry for two nights, no racing the clock and cold fingered mornings packing to go to some unknown. Another run as sun faded to the Lost Canyon, creeks lined by stacked sheets of sedimentary rock, water reflecting the blue, blue sky. We ran the sand trails jumping rocks, logs up and down following the piles of rocks called cairns – a merry game, eyes darting feet treading soft, knees bending for impact. When earned, breaks were endorphin fueled euphoria, gazing about in wonder at this glorious land we were so luck to be specks amongst it. Ladders down the rocks added to the fun and views that went on in all directions including up and down.

Our first campfire crackled back at the campsite under Dylan’s loving care. The sunset on a pair of lucky backpackers under a blanket of foreign stars.